The only thing to do was to follow procedure. Whatever would happen, would happen.
The first encouraging thing was when the cord wouldn't cut, and Clark leaned over and bit it through. That reminded him that this was an alien baby, Superman's baby, and he might have been a little hasty in assuming such a poor prognosis. Although, from what he'd seen from across the room, the extension of Clark's jaw would have accommodated a considerably larger delivery -- follow procedure! He could do that.
His one-minute Apgar assessment was encouraging, too -- he'd never have expected an 1190-gram preemie to score a seven. He suctioned the tiny mouth, and unwrapped the baby a little to check on movement -- the little bastard kicked his hand, hard, and then pissed on him! Chase laughed out loud. The noise must have startled the baby, because he started to cry -- an insistent, high-pitched mewing, like a lost kitten. That brought his five-minute Apgar up to nine, and that meant he'd probably be fine -- if a half-Kryptonian baby really could be evaluated by the same standards as a regular baby, anyhow.
Chase bandaged the shoulder, wrapped the baby up warmly, and made sure that his little knit cap wouldn't fall off. Then he brought him back to his parents to say Hello.
Maybe he needn't have worried about what Luthor would do if the baby didn't make it. The bald megalomaniac had eyes only for his partner, who lay on his side in the blood-stained bed, arms crossed protectively over his chest, wincing, with a confused look on his face.
Chase had a flash of more-than-ordinary sympathy for the fussing kid in his arms. He knew what it was to be ignored by a father. Then Clark looked up, his attention probably drawn by the mewing sounds. Faster than Chase could see, he zipped over and took the baby from his hands. His enormous smile gave him the face of an angel, despite the gore that still streaked his chin and chest. Chase knew from the look in his eyes that Superman's son would be loved.
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Lex was glad to see Clark could still move. The blood had been an unpleasant surprise, but he'd get Mercy to dispose of the bedding safely, very soon. No one would misappropriate anything.
Clark's crying son sounded like a kitten up a tree. Lex smiled at this explanation for one of Superman's most idiosyncratic habits. He smiled, and kept smiling -- he couldn't stop. Clark was okay.
The doctors were talking, but he paid them no mind. House sent the girl -- Cameron, that was it, why was he having such trouble remembering names today -- to open the windows again. Lex liked the way Clark's skin drank in the sunlight.
Clark was jostling the baby, cuddling it, and wincing as if something still hurt. The baby was crying. Cameron was fluttering around with a damp cloth and a clean gown, apparently trying to get Clark wiped off and changed out of the bloody one. House and Wilson were joking quietly, near the window. Chase was talking to Clark and seemed to be trying to take the baby back from him, maybe to help Cameron.
Clark seemed reluctant to hand him over. The baby kept crying. Lex became uneasy.
Suddenly he realized that was his baby, not just Clark's. He'd known it abstractly before, but it hadn't actually hit him until just that moment.
He got up and wobbled over to Clark. "I've got him," he said. "You get into some clean clothes."
"He's still crying," Clark complained, and winced again.
"I've got him," Lex repeated, and Clark let him take him. So small! But he seemed okay. Lex stroked the tiny cheek, and the baby turned and tried to get his fingertip into its mouth. "He's hungry," Lex said quietly, almost to himself.
"What the heck?" Clark said, at the same time.
"Apparently you're a mammal," House cut in acerbically. "And that's my last diagnosis for the day. The kids'll help you figure it out, although I'd have thought it was pretty damn clear. You coming?" he asked Dr. Wilson.
Wilson looked around, seeming a little startled. "I... I had appointments... My God, is that the time?"
House rolled his eyes at him. "Alien pheromones," he stated. "Okay, that was my second-to-last diagnosis of the day before. When Supes there is injured, sick, or in distress, he emits something that makes people cluster round and take care of him. He's fine now, so it's wearing off."
Clark looked up from where he was trying, with Cameron's somewhat uncoordinated help, to get the bloody cloth peeled away from his dripping chest. "What?" he asked, looking betrayed and stricken.
Lex insinuated himself between Cameron and Clark, leaving her with nothing but a momentary glimpse of Clark's perfect ass and an angry expression. He handed his son to his darling, and caught the ends of Clark's fresh garment before they could fall completely away. "Your baby is hungry," he said, tying the robe around Clark's hips like a towel. "And I've been in love with you since you were fifteen. Alien pheromones had nothing to do with it."
Clark smiled and calmed down, and finally seemed to have figured out the combination of leaking nipples and squalling baby. It was amazing to see those giant hands guiding that tiny mouth to its goal.
House and Wilson left together.
"Send Mercy in, would you?" Lex asked, and they did.
Chase showed Clark how to break the suction of the baby's mouth with a fingertip after he'd suckled for a few minutes, so he could swap him over to the other side. Cameron helped Mercy clear away everything that should never be allowed to get into the wrong hands. Soon House's staff left, and Mercy stationed herself wherever she thought best, and Lex was left alone with Clark and their sleeping son.
The scarlet light of the setting sun shone in and painted Clark's skin in shades of gorgeous. He hadn't looked so well in months, or perhaps ever.
Lex was almost dizzy with how un-doomed he felt. He sat down on a bed, then lay down. Clark wheeled the bassinet between the room's two beds. Conner (where did Clark come up with that name, anyway?) didn't wake up.
"Isn't he beautiful?" Clark said.
Lex opened his eyes. "Mmm. Like you."
"Like you, I was thinking. How are we -- I mean, we can't just fill out a birth certificate, like regular -- I guess we could pull that old Metropolis United Charities scam, like -- but I'd hate to--"
"Shh," Lex said. Clark stopped babbling immediately. "We'll call Chloe in the morning. See if she'd be willing to wear padding for a few months and sign some surrogacy papers."
"Okay. That sounds okay. But what if she says no?"
Lex laughed a little, and closed his eyes again. "Then we'll ask Mercy."
Clark's laughter was the last thing he heard as he fell asleep.
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"You may still have me beat for delivering babies in elevators, but I'm way ahead of you on aliens."
"I helped!"
"But I was the one with my hands down his throat."
That got him for a minute, but then Wilson said, "So, how does it feel to be Superman's obstetrician?"
House checked to see whether Wilson was making fun of him, or just having fun. Deciding it was the latter, he smiled. "Pretty good, actually. You can do the next one, and let me know what you think."
Wilson turned away from their balcony view of New Jersey. His eyebrows were way up his forehead. "You think they're going to have another one?"
"Why not? Women do."
"No way. Not now that they know that it could happen!"
"I'll bet you fifty bucks they're back here for Baby Number Two within five years."
"Done."
They were silent for a while. The lights of the university glittered across the way.
"How many do you suppose Cuddy and Foreman will have by then?" Wilson joked.
"Shut up."